Solen kicked the glass with his foot, punched it with his fists, and even threw chairs at it—only for the chair to break instead.
He sighed and slumped to the floor, sweat beading at his temple, his breath ragged.
The room was a mess. He had thrown everything he could find at the glass, but nothing worked.
"Fuck! There has to be another way…"
Solen knew far too well by now—getting angry, desperate, even begging Caelum to let him go was pointless. That man would never release him. And he still didn't understand why.
Why hold onto him after everything?
After he'd betrayed him. After he'd killed his generals, his allies… his family.
What more could Caelum possibly want to take from him?
He had nothing left.
And yet—strangely—he wasn't afraid of him at all.
"Is it because he's my fated mate?" he murmured softly, eyes still fixed on the vast, open sky above. He closed them, letting the sunlight warm his skin.
It felt like… home.
Not because of Caelum. But because of the sky itself.
The sky—the one place far from the reach of demons. Even when they built their castles on the highest peaks, desperate to touch the heavens, they never truly could.
It was just a dream. Foolish. Naive.
But now, here he was, standing among the clouds. Not as a free man—far from it—but still, a strange sense of peace washed over him.
Like the weight he had carried for so long had finally loosened its grip.
"Is it because… I'm finally free from my duty as Demon Lord?" he whispered, uncertain.
His castle was now all crumbled and broken. His throne and crowns were on Caelum's head. He has nowhere to go and even when he feels deep sorrow, he already accepted it all.
He remembered what his father once told him—words like a blade:
"With that soft heart of yours, you'll never become a true demon lord! You're nothing but a disgrace to my blood!"
From that day forward, his father tried to extinguish that kindness.
Whenever Solen grew close to anyone—animal or friend—his father forced him to kill them.
Forced him to destroy everything he loved.
Tried to kill his heart. But it never died.
No matter how much blood stained his hands, his heart kept beating with compassion, aching for something gentler.
Sometimes, he wondered…
"Am I really a demon? I've never felt like I was born to be this way."
The thought made his chest tighten. Realizing what his father said was right, he was indeed a failure.
But then he shook his head, grounding himself back to reality.
"No," he whispered. "I can't stay here. I need to find a way to escape."
His eyes narrowed with fierce determination.
"He's completely lost his mind. And I refuse to become part of his madness."
Solen approached the wall—unlike the others, this one was made of iron instead of glass. As he stood before it, it slid open automatically like a door.
He jolted in surprise, realizing for the first time that his room hadn't been locked at all.
This cage… wasn't as simple as it looked.
Cautiously, he stepped out into a hallway lined with paintings.
"Ah… Caelum loves painting," he murmured, glancing at them one by one.
There were studies of hands, feet, fingers, mouths… and then, he paused in front of a pair of vividly painted red eyes.
His red eyes.
He frowned deeply. Each canvas was a part of his body.
"This man is insane," he muttered, shaking his head.
He continued down the corridor until another automatic door slid open as he approached. Inside was a drawing room, richly decorated.
Red carpet, red walls with golden accents, marigold flower patterns embroidered everywhere.
A grand piano stood in the center, facing a warm fireplace surrounded by a plush sofa set and elegant chairs.
A table between them bore white and red wine bottles, perfectly arranged.
Sunlight poured in through a giant window, filling the room with a golden glow.
There were games scattered throughout—chess boards, puzzles, intricate wooden board games from different regions.
Three doors branched off from this room.
The first led to a luxurious bathroom.
The second opened to a vast library—and to his surprise, it was tended by a small creature: a fairy in the form of an orange cat wearing a black tuxedo and a monocle.
The creature walked on two feet and introduced himself with a bow.
"I'm Navel, the librarian. Come, I will arrange a little tour!" the fairy said proudly, as he and Solen walked through the vast library.
Solen's only purpose was to find a way to break the artifact.
But of course, there wasn't a single book about that.
Worse, many of the books here were actually his favorites—or ones he'd always wanted to read but never had the chance.
He ran his fingers along the spines. The cover was made of high-quality leather, the pages inside soft, thick, and cream-colored—clearly a first edition.
But he shook his head, resisting the urge to sit down and read them all. He had to stay focused on his goal.
Solen couldn't find any emergency exit—nothing he could operate without magic. He was completely trapped here with no way out.
The 'cage' Caelum had built was flawless, just like him. A perfectionist to the core.
'How long did it take him to build all this?' the thought struck him. 'This isn't something you can make in a month… or even a year…'
"Our lord is terrifying—his eyes alone could kill, I swear it. But the pay is excellent, so we're happy to be here!" the cat suddenly said.
Solen raised a brow. "Right… that sounds just like him."
He couldn't help but remember Caelum giving cold, precise orders on the battlefield—merciless and efficient, wiping out monsters and demons alike.
His golden eyes that was supposed to be warm like the sun, had turned frigid… devoid of empathy.
Just the memory made Solen's body shiver.
"Thank you for the little tour," he said with a faint smile as he turned to leave.
"Come again! We're always waiting for you!" Navel called cheerfully, waving with one tiny paw.
The third door led to the garden.
Solen stepped through—and found himself under the open sky. There was no glass ceiling overhead, just the soft blue of the heavens stretching above him.
But when he narrowed his eyes, he could see the shimmer of a magical barrier—barely visible, like heat ripples in the air.
"Tch… magic again," he muttered, irritated.
He wandered a bit before settling on a stone bench in front of a fountain, the gentle sound of water easing the silence.
The garden was vast, just like those in noble estates or palaces—crisscrossed with winding paths that led to a glasshouse, a dainty gazebo perfect for afternoon tea, and more.
It was elegant… but lifeless.
No flowers bloomed here.
Everything was a uniform green, untouched, as if Caelum had deliberately left it that way—plain, silent, and cold.
Solen sighed and leaned back, eyes growing heavy. His body ached from walking, his thoughts were sluggish.
The artifact draining his mana left him as weak as a human, and fatigue came quickly.
Even if he wanted to escape, Solum floated high in the sky—beyond reach—and without flight magic, he was utterly trapped.
His brain felt fried from trying to figure a way out.
Then, cutting through the sound of the fountain, came a light, melodic giggle. He turned his head instinctively toward the sound.
Caelum was walking through the garden path, side by side with a stunning noblewoman.
Her hair was a soft pink, cascading like silk. Her laughter was like a bird's song—graceful, carefree. Her beauty was undeniable, lethal in its own right.
And as Solen watched her smile at Caelum, his chest tightened.
He knew that woman, Caelum's wife.
His fated mate's wife.
And there was no world in which he could win against her.